


Ugly Christmas Jumper

by Call_Me_Clarence



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas Crack, Gen, Greg is just trying his best, Humor, KatsJohnlockXmas2019, Sherlock insults John's fashion choices, Will Sherlock ever remember Lestrade's first name?, it does not go well for Sherlock, probably not, ugly christmas jumpers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21733552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Call_Me_Clarence/pseuds/Call_Me_Clarence
Summary: “No. I will not go to a crime-scene with you looking like--like--” He looks at John’s jumper and actually winces. “That.”“Well, tough luck on that one. This is what I’m wearing.” John stands his ground.Sherlock shakes his head. “No.”“Sherlock--”“John, I absolutely refuse to be seen in public with someone dressed as horrendously as you are now. I forbid it.”----Sherlock makes John change his jumper before a case. John is not pleased.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 37
Collections: Kat's Johnlock Xmas 2019





	Ugly Christmas Jumper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosie_i_supposie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosie_i_supposie/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Уродливый рождественский джемпер](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21890077) by [Little_Unicorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Unicorn/pseuds/Little_Unicorn)



> Unbetaed ( how do I spell this friggin' word? If I had a beta I'd know)
> 
> Made for Kat's Johnlock Xmas Challenge 2019, Day 6. The prompt was 'Xmas Jumper'.
> 
> This one goes out to rosie_bean. LET ME BUY UGLY CHRISTMAS CLOTHES WHEN WE GO SHOPPING! THAT CHRISTMAS CAT BLAZER WAS SO COOL!!!! D:

John walks into the living room where Sherlock is practically vibrating with impatience.

“Finally.” Sherlock sighs dramatically, turning around to face John. “You were taking ages. I half expect Lestrade to have cleared up the crime-scene… by… now.” 

“What?” John asks, looking down at himself. He has his trousers on. Shoes aren’t mismatched either. He looks back up to Sherlock who’s staring at John as if he’d walked into the room naked or something. “What is it?”

“You’re… not actually going to wear that, are you?” 

John looks down at himself again. “What, are you talking about the Christmas Jumper?”

“John, it’s the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, yeah.” John laughs. “It’s an Ugly Christmas Jumper. That’s kind of the whole point.”

“But… “ Sherlock looks supremely distressed. “ _Why_?”

“Well, why not?” 

“No.” Sherlock says flatly.

“What do you mean ‘ _no’_?”

“No. I will not go to a crime-scene with you looking like--like--” He looks at John’s jumper and actually winces. “ _That_.”

“Well, tough luck on that one. This is what I’m wearing.” John stands his ground.

Sherlock shakes his head. “No.”

“Sherlock--”

“John, I absolutely refuse to be seen in public with someone dressed as horrendously as you are now. I forbid it.”

“You can’t _forbid me_ to wear things.” John scoffs.

“I can stand right here until you change.” Sherlock sticks his chin up defiantly.

“Sherlock, this is a serious case. There could be someone actually _missing_ \--”

Sherlock folds his arms in front of his chest, looking away towards the smiley face he’d spray-painted on the wall.

“Unbelievable.” John huffs.

He holds out for another thirty seconds before going off to change his jumper.

\-----

  
  


“Our victim is not actually the child’s biological father.” Sherlock says, then turns to John, ready for his praise.

John is busy looking at his phone.

“I said--” Sherlock starts again, but John cuts him off.

“No, I heard you.”

Sherlock frowns at that.

Lestrade looks between the two men, then clears his throat, “Erm, how do you figure?”

It takes Sherlock a moment to notice the Geoff has said anything.

“Oh. The ears. Obvious.” 

“Right. Right.” Geoff nods. 

Sherlock is waiting for John’s response, eyeing him so hard he’s sure John must feel it drilling through his skull at this point. 

Geoff looks at John, raising his brows. “Well, um. That’s brilliant, Sherlock.” 

Lestrade _was_ trying to pick up the slack left by John this crime-scene, Sherlock had to give him that. It wasn’t his fault he was just so _dreadful_ at it.

Sherlock sighs and marches off to the next point of interest. 

“These markings, you said they were left by a bicycle?” Sherlock points to the black marks marring the stairs.

“Yeah, that’s what we’re thinking.”

Sherlock shakes his head. “Wrong.”

“How so?”

Sherlock looks to John, who’s still busy scrolling through some social media feed or other.

“Sherlock? I asked how it’s wrong.”

Sherlock gives Geoff a withering stare.

“Motorcycle.” he says flatly.

“What? No. I’ve got a motorcycle--”

“Obviously.”

Geoff pauses at that, thinks better of whatever he was going to say. “Well, I would know, these tracks are much too narrow.”

“Harley Davidson Bobber, slim. Custom Job. Recently brought back from Japan. Shovelhead engine block--I’m sorry, John, but are you not going to write any of this down?”

John looks up from his phone, “Hmm? Me?”

Sherlock drops his mouth open in shock and agitation.

“Of course you! Who else is called ‘John’ and frequently takes notes about my deductions at a crime-scene?!”

John shrugs. Goes back to his phone.

Sherlock continues to stare at him in shock.

“So you got all that from the tire treads?” Geoff, at least, looks impressed.

“Yes.” Sherlock waves the DI off. “Why aren’t you taking notes?”

“Hmm?” John looks up again.

“I said, why aren’t you taking any notes?”

“Oh.” Another damned shrug. “I wasn’t thinking of writing this one up.”

“What!?”

“Is there something going on between you two?” Geoff asks, but they both ignore him.

“Why aren’t you writing up this case? It’s _amazing_ , John! You’d know that if you bothered to look up from that damned phone for more than five seconds!”

“Hmm. Well, to be honest, I don’t find it all that interesting.” John says, as if he’s _bored._

“Not--not interesting!” Sherlock scoffs. “We have a secret adoption. A motorcycle chase through a two-story flat, that of which started on the next door neighbors roof--”

“Hang on, how--”

“Not now, Geoff!” Sherlock yells at him.

“It’s Greg, actually.”

“Never mind that now!” he turns back to John. “How, in God’s name, do you find this ‘not interesting’?”

John looks about the room they’re in, lips together in contemplation. “Dunno.”

“You don’t know?” Sherlock asks flatly.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I mean, some people find things interesting, other people don’t. You see, Sherlock, people have different tastes in things. Some people like Ugly Christmas Jumpers, others don’t. Some people would be normal human beings, and not make their friends change before joining them at a crime-scene. Some people might find this case interesting. I don’t.” He looks up at Sherlock evenly.

Sherlock is without words.

“So, you two are having a row over a jumper?” 

“Not now, Geoff!” Sherlock shouts before stomping off to a different area of the crime-scene. Anywhere away from _John_.

“It’s Greg!” Geoff calls after him.

  
  


\-------

John tosses and turns in his bed, supremely uncomfortable but not exactly sure why. His brain boots up slowly, until he realizes he’s burning up. Did Sherlock turn the heat back up again for an experiment with the radiator? Also his duvet feels much heavier than normal. Was Sherlock performing an experiment on _him_?

John opens his eyes and looks down.

Jumpers. Jumpers everywhere.

They completely coat his bed, and him therein. There must be at least thirty of the damned things, layered up on one another and neatly folded, like you’d find in some posh store. Off to the sides of his bed, John can see even more of the bloody things have fallen off to the floor. 

“What in the world?” John grumbles sleepily, carefully extracting himself from his bedclothes as not to disturb... whatever the hell was going on.

John flicks on the bedroom light and can see that their not just any jumpers, their Ugly Christmas Jumpers. Dozens of them.

“What the hell?” he picks one up. It looks to be about his size.

There’s a creak from his bedroom door. John turns to see Sherlock standing in the doorway, peeking into his room, looking very much like a chastised school boy.

“What is this?” he asks him.

Sherlock steps more fully inside the room, looking down at his feet sheepishly.

“I may have made an error yesterday in my rash judgement of your apparel.” 

“Oh, really?” John raises a brow.

“Yes.” Sherlock peeks up at him through his lashes, “And so to compensate, I thought I’d buy you some more of the fashion item of your choice. To show I hold no ill will towards you, or your clothes, and am in fact very, very sorry for making you change out of your jumper.”

John holds his unimpressed stare for another moment before finally giving in and smiling.

“You do realize, now, that I have more Christmas jumpers than literally anything else?” he laughs.

Sherlock tilts his head in contemplation, “Yes, well… I may have gone a bit overboard.”

“Just a bit.” John chuckles.

“Not good?” Sherlock asks, voice small and vulnerable.

John looks over at the lanky git and smiles.

“Nah, it’s good.” he looks back to the jumper in his hands. “Though I may have to start wearing these everyday. Just to get your money’s worth out of them.”

“No!” Sherlock stops himself, clears his throat. “I mean, it’s your choice, of course, whatever you decide to wear.”

“I’m joking.” John soothes. But then turns to Sherlock with an interested look. “So, you wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen with me in public if I wear these?” he motions his head to the jumper-laden bed.

“I have given it some serious thought, and the only opinion I truly care about is yours, John. If you’re not embarrassed, then I’m not either.”

And that makes John’s insides go all warm and fuzzy. The prat could be an absolute angel, when he put his mind to it that is.

He clears his throat and sets the jumper back on the bed.

“So,” he says, observing what is now the majority of his wardrobe. “Which one should I wear today?”

Sherlock moves to silently pick one of the jumpers from the center of the bed, and hands it to John without a word.

“This one?” John says, turning it around. It’s probably the most hideous thing John has ever seen, and he tells Sherlock as much.

“Well, I just thought it might match… “

“What in God’s name would match this!?” 

Sherlock smiles then, pulling open his robe, to reveal his own Ugly Christmas Jumper, just like the one in John’s hands. “Mine.” he says brightly.

John’s never laughed so hard in his life.

And they both have never been laughed _at_ so hard in their lives than when they show up at the next crime-scene, matching jumpers and all.

  
  


The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! May you all find the perfect ugly Christmas jumper! Or heck, why not twenty of them! :D


End file.
